Chapter 47: A Parting Of The Ways
Austin
"It's too late, Jane." She faced away, not wanting him to see her face.
.
.
.
* * * 21 Hours Earlier * * *
Night Talk Radio Studio, Austin
Jane paced restlessly. Damn, the killer just toyed with us to get information. How the hell will we catch him now?, he wondered, nauseated at the thought continuing his psychic pose for numerous appearances. He impatiently peered through the glass door looking for Tork, eager to get home to check on Teresa. The downpour blurred everything except the dim glow of street lights. Rain and mist seemed to swallow what little light there was on the deserted street.
"Mr. Jane–" the cop's voice broke through his musings. "Stay away from the door. You'd make a perfect target for anyone out there."
"Oh. Thanks." He moved aside, rolling his shoulders to ease the night's tension.
A dark shape loomed up and startled them with a sharp rap on the door. The cop stepped between the door and Jane.
"That's Tork," Jane vouched. The cop unlocked and opened the door.
Tork ducked inside. "Could'a swam here," he grumbled, wiping his face and hair from the rain as he stood dripping. "Let's go," he said curtly, still disappointed about the failed trap.
"I'll walk you to your vehicle," the cop said as Jane frowned at the sheeting rain.
Tork took a careful look around through the door, gun drawn. Then he nodded and the three hurried to the black SUV parked across the street. Tork unlocked the doors with the fob then stood guard while Jane went around to the passenger side. "Hurry up!" He yelled to Jane over the drumbeat of rain. He said to the cop, "Thanks. I've got it now." The cop left in a rush, quickly disappearing in the darkness and rain.
Tork slid into the driver's seat as Jane opened his door and-
***CRASH*** A pick-up, headlights off, rammed the SUV
-Tork's airbag exploded
–the frame slammed into Jane's head.
The door-open alert pinged feebly above the pounding rain. Both men were still.
The driver yanked up the parking brake, leaving the engine running. He nodded, satisfied. The agent was neutralized; the psychic, unconscious and ready to be taken. Ignoring the rain he approached the SUV, he tossed Tork's gun and cell phone away. He went around to Jane, checked for a pulse, threw his cell phone aside and dragged him to the rear of the truck. After lowering the tailgate, he heaved his quarry into the back. Handcuffs and a few lengths of chain secured him to steel loops at the corners. Duck tape over the mouth would keep him quiet. He pulled a flap of a tarp over the motionless figure. He turned the headlight on – the other was smashed despite steel bars welded to the front bumper – and the truck jerked underway. The last thing he wanted was to attract attention. He would transfer his prize to his car and vanish.
En Route, Austin
Lisbon squinted, trying to see through the driving rain. She said loudly into her phone, "Hastings, say again! – Tork's there, got it. Thanks," and ended the call.
"We still heading to the radio station?"
"Yeah. Hurry." Relief washed through her as Tork's SUV came into view, "Good-" then fear, "-Wait! Something's off! Pull over." Wylie eased to a stop to avoid skidding.
"Damn." Crumpled metal, wheel up on the curb, Tork's limp figure. "Call an ambulance!" She jumped out and opened Tork's door. Pulse, breathing okay. Where's Jane? She peered inside then ran around to the passenger side. Nothing! "Jane's gone!" she yelled above the rain. She scrambled back in. "Go! Catch up."
Wylie pocketed his cell and floored it, tires slipping on the wet. They closed on an old pick-up truck. It passed under a street light. "It's red!" The killer?
Grimly, "We'll lose him if he reaches the interstate."
"Whatdowedo?" Wylie blurted as they gained on it.
"Get alongside. Swerve, make him hit the guard rail!"
"What if–"
"Do it!"
Wylie clenched his jaw, pulled even with the truck.
"Now!"
They slammed the pick-up's left fender.
Tires squealed. The pick-up zigzagged. Crashed!
Wylie pulled ahead and yanked the wheel to the right, blocking the road.
Everything stopped dead.
Lisbon kicked her bashed door open and leaped out. Gun drawn, she ran to the pickup and yanked the door open.
"FBI! Get out, hands up!"
He didn't move. He sat dazed and bleeding from smashing into the steering wheel. No airbag.
"Where's Jane?" No answer. With Wylie's back-up, she cuffed the driver's hands to the steering wheel. "Get the ignition key!"
The dome light revealed no one else.
She ran to the back, released the tailgate and pulled the heavy tarp off the dark lump. "Call an ambulance!"
Wylie had called for one. He called for another plus PD back-up.
Lisbon worked by touch in the rain and dark. ABC's – Airway, clear. Breathing - okay if I can keep the rain off. Circulation, pulse - steady, no gushing blood. She uncuffed her unconscious partner. Checking as best she could, she felt blood in his hair and on the tape she peeled from his mouth. She pulled the tarp back over, propping up the edge so it didn't lay on his face. The wail of sirens approached, then flashing lights. At last! EMT's scrambled out when the vehicle stopped.
"Over here!" Lisbon shouted. The EMT's roughly crowded in and she sagged against the side of the truck, adrenaline deserting her.
Fischer pulled up, followed by a squad car and another ambulance. "Wylie, report."
"Got him. EMT's are helping Jane. I don't know about Tork back–"
"–En route to the hospital. Sure this guy's our killer?" She patted down the driver without uncuffing him. She used a handkerchief to pull a knife from his boot.
Wylie waved the second set of EMT's to the driver as he drew an evidence bag from his pocket for Fischer.
"He kidnapped Jane. And–" Wylie handed her four evidence bags, "I found this in the glove box." She held the bags in front of the headlights: Small bottle of clear liquid, bloody pliers, a syringe, and an IV needle with a blood collection bag.
"Hot damn! Got him!"
"Lisbon got him-"
Lisbon tiredly jogged over, "We did, Jason. –Kim, you got this? I want to go with Jane."
Fischer nodded.
Lisbon sprinted to the ambulance and slipped inside before the doors slammed shut.
"Wylie, follow Lisbon, take my SUV." She snapped her fingers, "Take your go-bag – and mine too. She can have my dry clothes. I'll wrap up here." Wylie traded keys with Fischer and left.
County General Hospital, Austin
Wylie dropped the two bags next to Lisbon and sat in the adjacent chair. Lisbon glanced at him and nodded.
Hesitantly, "Any word on Jane? Or Tork?"
She shook her head. Flatly, "Jane was unconscious. Didn't look too bad, but you can't tell about head injuries. Just have to wait." She propped her face on her hand and instantly jerked back in pain. Instead she settled back in the uncomfortable chair and leaned her head against the wall.
Wylie scratched his cheek, itchy from humidity plus day-end stubble. "I'm going for coffee, want one?"
"Thanks," she nodded.
He rose, then thought to add, "I brought Kim's go-bag. She said you could use her dry clothes."
"Maybe later."
He returned in 15 minutes with two coffees and two chocolate bars. He set them on the melamine table near her then took his bag and headed for the men's room. The day's events had caught up with him. Dinnertime was long past. Relief and even pride at getting the serial killer had faded into gray uncertainty about two injured team members.
Fischer was talking with Lisbon when he exited the men's room. "...rode with them for security. The PD is stationing two men at his door. Name on his driver's license is Joseph P. Keller, Jr."
Lisbon nodded, face pale, damp hair drying into waves and frizz. "Just so the PD knows he's our serial killer. No screw-ups where he gets away."
"Not a chance. –I hate to ask, but will you be in tomorrow? We have to wrap up the loose ends and we're down two men."
Lisbon nodded. "So long as Jane's okay."
Fischer turned to Wylie. "Wylie, good work." He blushed faintly but looked pleased. She eyed him curiously, "Why'd you call Lisbon?"
He shrugged uneasily and looked down. "Seemed like a good idea when the phone trace led to a server. Was worried about just one man guarding Jane." He looked up, expression earnest and guilty, "I got Dave Hastings to cover for me."
Fischer shook her head, amused. "You saved the day. Good catch."
"Oh." He looked relieved. "Thanks," he said, unable to suppress a smile.
Lisbon rose wearily, "Think I'll take you up on the clothes, Kim. I'm staying till I know about Jane, hopefully talk to him." She frowned. "Tork?"
"I called his wife. No point flying out here if he's-"
"-Family for Tork?" called a nurse with a clipboard who stood outside the treatment area.
"Here," said Fischer. The three rose and met the nurse half way.
"Agent Tork is being released. He needs someone to drive him home because of the medication he's received."
Fischer motioned, "I can do that."
"I need your signature, please." The nurse handed her the clipboard and a pen.
A minute later Tork walked slowly into the waiting room. Purple-blue rings below his eyes contrasted starkly with the white tape immobilizing a broken nose. Bruises from the airbag deployment made every move painful. The agents crowded loosely around.
Fischer spoke first, "Glad you're okay, Rick." Wylie and Lisbon nodded.
"Jane?" he asked nasally.
Quietly, "Being treated. Know more later. Lisbon and Wylie got the killer – a Joseph Keller. He's here, two cops guarding him."
Heavily, "That's great." He looked at the three. "What happened?"
Fischer said, "I'll tell you on the way to your place. –Your wife would really like to hear from you."
"You called Barbara?"
Fischer shrugged, "You were hurt."
Tork looked around again. "Good work." He looked at Lisbon, shame plain on his face. "Call me when you find out about Jane?"
Lisbon nodded stiffly. "Okay."
He nodded to Lisbon and Wylie then headed out with Fischer.
Lisbon sighed as she watched them leave, then turned to Wylie. "Jason, would you mind staying till I change? Just in case there's word."
"Sure. I – I'm staying anyhow. Till we know, I mean." She nodded, took the bag and headed to the woman's room
A steady stream of the sick and injured came through the trauma center doors over the next ninety minutes. Twenty minutes after Fischer and Tork left Wylie had leafed through a half-dozen out-dated magazines and finished his coffee and candy bar. Lisbon had changed into dry clothes, albeit with the pant cuffs rolled up.
Eager for a distraction, Wylie ventured, "You and Jane are going to leave, aren't you?"
Surprised, she looked his way. "What makes you say that?"
He half-shrugged. "Just a feeling. Cho left and I know you three were close. And, well, Jane seemed to deliberately annoy Tork and Pike."
She said obliquely, "Jane's got over three more years to his contract."
Not buying it, Wylie looked sharply at her. "But I bet Jane could get out of it somehow – if he wanted."
"Maybe." She sipped her second coffee. "Any thoughts? I mean, if that was the case?"
He scratched his head, forehead wrinkled in dismay. "I like working with you guys. You're different. I've learned a lot." She raised her eyebrows and nodded, encouraging him to go on. He sighed, "Tork and Pike don't like Jane being so far out of the box. Not something they're comfortable with. It'll probably be worse once Abbott's gone. So, it makes sense for you two." He suddenly cleared his throat, eyes widening, "I didn't mean anything about you – your personal life. It just seems you work together ... well."
She smiled and patted his knee. "It's okay, Wylie. Jane and I have been partners a long time."
His expression changed as he reached a decision. "If you stay in the FBI and, and it makes sense, please consider me. I wouldn't mind– No, I'd really like to keep working with you."
Gently, "I don't know if things will work out that way though I appreciate the thought. Stay open to opportunities. Good SA's are always looking for smart, talented agents who work hard." She closed her eyes and leaned back again, trying to get rid of the headache she'd had all evening, trying to quell worry about Jane until she knew more.
Wylie mulled the combined compliment and bad news, finally deciding her advice was reason for optimism. That Lisbon – maybe even Jane – thought well of him was a balm to his disappointment they would leave. She hadn't denied it, which he took as confirmation.
Fifteen minutes later a nurse emerged. "Family for Patrick Jane?" They rose as one and descended upon her.
The nurse looked at the small, black-haired woman and the tall, fair man. Lisbon offered, "I'm his partner," deliberately leaving it ambiguous.
"Accompany me, please."
Both followed. Anticipating the nurse's desire to limit it to just one, Lisbon said, "We're FBI. He's on our team." After a moment's indecision, the nurse nodded and motioned them both to his treatment bay.
Jane lay on a gurney, dressed in a hospital gown and covered by a sheet and blanket. He looked little worse for the wear except for an IV, some bruises, and a white bandage taped to a shaved patch on his head.
"Jane." Lisbon took his hand, squeezing lightly.
He looked around, careful not to move his head suddenly. "Lisbon. Wylie." He squeezed back.
"How are you?"
"Never better," and smirked faintly at the patently false answer. "I'll live ... apparently." Wylie shifted uncomfortably but looked relieved.
"I'm Dr. Chavez," announced a tall, 40-something Hispanic man.
"Agents Lisbon and Wylie."
Chavez glanced at Jane to be sure he approved revealing medical details to the visitors. Jane gave a slight nod. "Mr. Jane has a mild concussion." He looked at the two agents. "Someone reported he was unconscious after a car accident and then suffered a second impact from another collision?"
"That's right," confirmed Lisbon.
"A second impact increases the potential severity of the concussion. I'm admitting him to monitor the concussion and run further tests related to his back pain." At Lisbon's worried look he expanded, "It appears to be sprained muscles. But I want to do further tests in the morning after treatment with muscle relaxants and a chance for the swelling to subside."
The tension drained from her. "So he'll be okay?" she asked hopefully.
Chavez nodded encouragingly. "We'll know more after tomorrow's tests, but there is every reason to be optimistic." He looked around. "If there are no further questions, I'll leave you to talk. Ask a nurse if you think of anything else."
"Hey, Wylie," Jane said, tired from the trauma and muzzy from drugs. "I hear you and Lisbon came to the rescue."
"I was worried after you flushed him out with that radio appearance."
"Thank you."
"Sure – you, you're welcome," he stammered.
Worry seeped into his voice, "You got the killer?"
Lisbon answered soothingly, "He's cuffed to a bed with two cops guarding him."
Jane yawned. "That's a relief." He frowned, "Unless he gets loose."
"Shhh."
"Jane," Wylie said, "glad you'll be all right. –I should be going I guess." Wylie shook Jane's hand and left.
Lisbon pulled over a chair and sank down. "Patrick, how are you really?"
"Mmmm. Head hurts but not bad. Back hurts. I think I tensed up just before ... what did happen anyway?" He moved a leg slightly and winced.
"The perp rammed your SUV with a pick-up. He left Tork and loaded you into the truck. Wylie and I caught him before he got to the interstate. Wylie forced the truck to the side where he crashed."
Jane grinned. "Action figure Wylie. Who knew?"
"Arrested Keller. Tork was beat up from the airbag. You lost a fight with the SUV's doorframe. You're both gonna be okay."
Jane idly stroked her hair with his untethered hand. "You doing all right after the dental work?"
"I'm-
- fine."
"–fine," they said in unison. He roused himself a little. "Lisbon, go home and rest. I have a whole hospital full of people to tend me ... and provide amusement."
She glowered. "Play nice."
He mumbled, on the verge of drifting off. "Yeah, yeah. For tonight. All bets are off tomorrow though."
She got up and kissed him. He smiled in reaction. "I'll stop by before work. Fischer, Wylie and I have to handle the cleanup since we're short-handed."
He was asleep before she left the room.
Austin, Friday Morning
Lisbon woke early after a restless night without Jane beside her. A therapeutic dose of ibuprofen and a night's sleep had done wonders for her jaw. She took a quick shower and left with plenty of time to buy take-out breakfast and stop by the hospital. She took Jane's car since hers was still at the FBI after taking a taxi to the dentist.
Lisbon stopped by Jane's hospital room, but Jane had already been taken away for tests. She left the two books he was currently reading, a book of puzzles, and a half dozen tea bags of his favorite blend. The less boredom Jane suffered, the less trouble he caused – anywhere, anytime. A blueberry muffin held her note promising to come by after work.
Next stop, Abbott.
FBI, Austin, Before The Work Day
The building was quiet. The front desk security officer nodded a welcome. Lisbon took the empty elevator to their floor. She glanced through the windowed wall and saw that Abbott was in and was alone.
Lisbon stepped into Abbott's office and closed the door. He was loading files into a moving box. Arms straight, she braced her hands on the back of a chair facing his desk.
"We need to talk."
He glanced up. "Check with Lira when she gets in. Full slate this morning."
Calm. Determined. "Now."
Abbott stopped gathering files and tilted his head, eyes narrowed. "About?"
"Jane's contract."
Abbott set aside the box. He leaned back, arms relaxed on the armrests. "Sit." Lisbon unbent enough to take the facing chair. "Jane okay?"
"Still running tests. Probably." She paused a moment, then plunged into it. "Jane can't work for Pike and Tork. You need to change his contract before you leave for DC. You have the clout to do it thanks to Blake."
Abbott rumbled quietly, dangerously, "I wouldn't be blackmailed by Peterson. I won't by Jane either. Jane committed first degree murder and there are consequences."
"Like the consequences for killing Caudillo?"
A muscle jumped in Abbott's jaw. "I didn't kill for revenge. And Jane isn't law enforcement."
She cocked her head, eyebrows raised. "Does that make it better? Or worse? Hypocrisy doesn't suit you, Abbott."
In a controlled voice, "Working for the FBI to avoid a murder charge is a very reasonable tradeoff.
Anger flashed in her eyes, then was gone. "A death sentence is reasonable?"
His forehead creased. "What?"
"We finished Blake three months ago. Markham murdered five DEA agents and nearly killed Jane because Pike wouldn't listen. MacKaye would have killed Jane and me in the art theft case except for you and Cho. You and Cho. Not Pike. Not Tork. And yesterday's half-assed trap almost made Jane victim number ten. Tork baited Jane to do the show, threw together a shoddy op, and had too little back-up with no oversight." She leaned forward. Intensely, "Jane will never fit into the FBI. Pike and Tork don't have the imagination or smarts to make the most of his talents while protecting him. They're gonna get him killed."
Abbott closed his eyes, took a breath. "Jane worked in essentially the same job for a decade. You made it work at the CBI, you can make it work now."
"I don't call the shots here! I've tried to protect him. This last case proves I can't."
He looked hard at Lisbon. "I swore to serve my country through the FBI. I can not and will not give Jane a pass when the FBI needs his talents."
"How will getting him killed help the FBI?" Now Lisbon leaned back, smiling a little. "What I propose benefits the FBI. Win-win."
"I'm listening."
"Jane will work for the FBI under your supervision. He'll work any case you want, up to four per year for the four remaining years of his contract. He gets paid for his time plus expenses. Oh – and no travel restrictions inside or outside the US."
Abbott's lips quirked in appreciation and amusement. "Well. Nothing if not ambitious, Lisbon." He leaned forward, warming to the negotiation. "Jane would work far more cases under his current contract–"
"–in Austin," Lisbon interjected with a snort.
He ignored the interruption. "-Twelve cases per year, five years. And you work with him. I'll be damned if I'm going to ride herd on a slippery con man. –And Schultz has to agree."
She frankly grinned. "Six cases a year, five years. Schultz will gladly ditch him after being embarrassed in Sacramento."
Abbott's eyebrows came together in sudden realization. Wonderingly, "He engineered this. –Pike and Tork were never fans but Jane deliberately pissed them off, didn't he?"
Her smile belied her diplomatic reply, "Not a good fit."
"I need to confirm this with Jane."
She raised her chin, outraged anew at yesterday. "He's at County General."
Abbott exhaled. Carefully, "Assuming he confirms the deal, I'll have a letter outlining the terms by day's end–"
"–Signed by you and Schultz?"
He nodded. "The legalese will take a few more days."
Lisbon rose. Sincere, "Thank you. You're not as big an SOB as I thought three years ago." She tossed a plastic zip bag on his desk. It contained a spent bullet and a rifling photo. "From Jane. It was never blackmail." Eyes glittering like hard gems, she turned and left.
Abbott sat idly gazing at where she'd just been. His eyes gleamed as he thought about personally controlling these two very useful assets for the FBI. Abbott resumed packing. He was surprised to realize he wanted to continue working with the prickly agent and the unique con man.
Murder turned out to be a family tradition. Joseph P. Keller, Jr. was the son of Joseph P. Keller, Sr., a serial killer from New Mexico who had died shortly after being released from prison a year ago. Keller's basement was a little shop of horrors. Lisbon, Fischer and Wylie all went, professionally and personally curious about the back story of a serial killer connected to the occult. Keller's basement contained a jar of formaldehyde-preserved fingernail trophies from his murders, a half dozen discarded blood donation bags ... and the mummified corpse of Keller, Sr. The body had shriveled into a leather-covered skeleton from the dry, desert heat of New Mexico. A well-thumbed printout of instructions for "binding a spirit" lay on a table. The spell required every inch of the dead person to be bathed in fresh human blood within a year of death. The corpse had blood stains covering three-quarters of the body where Keller used a sponge to dab it with blood. They turned the site over to forensics, but there wasn't a shred of doubt they had arrested the Austin serial killer Thursday night. Marcus Pike handled the press and TV interviews at Abbott's request since Pike had been the acting SAC for the case.
The day was over before Lisbon knew it. When she returned, Abbott stopped her in the hall with news that the agreement she outlined was approved. He handed her a faxed copy signed by him and Marion Schultz. It took Lisbon a few minutes to key the letter she needed before seeing Pike.
Pike's Office, FBI, Austin
Lisbon stepped off the elevator on the art squad's floor. She paused outside Pike's office to figure out how to broach her resignation. Pike had ... meant well. She gathered herself and stepped through the door.
"I need a moment."
Pike laid his pen down and looked up, happy to see her. "Lisbon. We got great press on catching Keller. Austin's mayor is grateful and we even got a call from the governor's office. Good work."
Nonplussed, "Wylie was key, too. He–"
"–What can I do for you?" he cut her off.
She inhaled and changed gears. "Jane will be leaving Austin – with Abbott's blessings." Pike's grin bloomed into a wide smile. He'd gotten the good news when Abbott asked if he objected to losing Jane. Then she added, "I'm resigning."
His face fell and he half-rose. "Have a seat. Please," he gestured. "Lisbon – Teresa, you don't have to do that."
"I'm afraid I do," she said simply, not wanting to get into it. She leaned forward and handed him her letter of resignation.
Pike skimmed the letter. He looked up, openly dismayed. "Why, Teresa?"
"I no longer need to be here," she said, rising and edging toward the door. She had half turned away when Pike spoke again.
"Don't throw away your career for an irresponsible con man!" Pike kept talking to keep her there. Urgently, "You have a bright future here. Stability, career progress, chance at a personal life with decent agents." Her face was expressionless. He scrambled for a convincing argument. "Yesterday's op was a mess." He looked at her with open admiration and more. "Stay and you can have the unit. Tork fumbled it and he's out."
Lisbon exhaled sharply and tilted her head. She turned back to face him. Her words were quiet, measured. "Pike, you're a decent man. I'll take on faith you're a good agent. But Tork isn't the only one who screwed up." Pike was puzzled, clueless.
She took a step toward him. "You're the new SAC. What do you do when a killer murders five people in one week, terrorizes the city, and makes national news? You dump it in Tork's lap, shame him in front of his team. You're too busy making rounds, getting up to speed on cases that could wait, to help." Pike looked shocked. "You've ignored, discounted, and endangered Jane at every turn. A – a genius at investigation works for you and you can't wait to get rid of him. You're too–" she took a breath and edited the word, "rigid to make use of him. That promotion to SAC? Thank Jane. You worked that case two years and he solved it in a week." With thick sarcasm, "You offer me unit leader like it's a favor, pat me on the head saying I'm a 'good agent.' Wow, I'm flattered. -I led a team for 12 years, had a 100% close rate, solved McTeer, got Red John, exposed and helped close Blake. After partnering with one of the finest detectives I've ever seen, I should stay and work for you? Jane and I have been to hell and back together. There's no one I'd rather work with. -Or spend my life with." She stared at him a moment, pivoted and left.
She was shaking with anger when she walked out that door. By the time she reached the elevator she was smiling and felt light enough to fly. All doubts were gone. Not only could she live without the FBI, she'd thrive. There was a whole world to explore with a fascinating, infuriating, beguiling, and brilliant man who somehow loved her just as much.
She answered her cell phone in the elevator. "Just leaving. Pick you up in 20 minutes."
County General, Austin
Jane was sitting up in bed, fidgeting from boredom when she arrived. He looked up, "At last!" and gingerly swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Hey!" She plopped a bag on the bed, "Here're your clothes. -You're gonna go broke replacing suits if you stay in law enforcement."
He grabbed the bag and said smugly, "Talked them into letting me out now instead of tomorrow morning."
Dryly, "At least you're not leaving against medical advice this time." She frowned and looked at him. "Right?"
Humoring her, "Yes, dear."
Lisbon waited patiently, looking comfortably to the side while he dressed, neither staring nor primly turning away. The slightest wrong move triggered searing pain in his sprained back. He dropped his boxers on the floor, shuffled each foot into a leg hole, and carefully bent both knees to pull them up. Repeat for pants. Only when he was buttoning his shirt did he resume their conversation.
Forehead creased in puzzlement, "Abbott called to confirm the new arrangement. –How did that happen?"
"I convinced him," she said simply. "He agreed to your demands and you'll be free."
Jane's proud smile for her faded. You'll be free echoed in his mind. He bit his bottom lip, "Teresa, I've been thinking." He took a breath and said in a rush, "I can stay with the FBI three more years. Longer if you want." He anxiously read her face.
Her breath caught and mood changed in an instant. "It's too late, Jane," she said, upset. She turned away, not wanting him to see her face.
Jane felt sucker punched. He grabbed the table and sank onto the bed. "Wha–what?"
She turned at his pained voice, was shocked to see fear and sorrow. She blinked, then understood. "Oh, God, Jane. That's not– It's too late because I quit. I resigned!" She sat and hugged him tightly. "I didn't think how it would sound."
Hesitantly, "You're coming with me, not staying?"
"Yes, I'm coming. Don't even think I'd let you go," she said fiercely.
He drew a shaky breath, exhaled and squared his shoulders, using every trick he knew to calm himself, regain his composure. Weak with relief, "Good. ... Good."
Gently, "Finish dressing. I'm famished and there's a steak with my name on it at Iron Works." The restaurant had become a favorite despite unsettling reverberations from their past. "We have to talk about what happens next."
Still stuck on his terrifying scare, "Why did you react that way? You turned away and I thought..." he said, perplexed.
Her eyebrows drew together over a stony expression. "I let you down, Jane. I should never have pushed to stay with the FBI."
He shook his head, confused. "You didn't do anything..."
She rubbed her face with both hands. "C'mon. Let me help you with your shoes and socks. We'll talk while we eat."
Iron Works BBQ, Austin
Lisbon and Jane leaned back against the padded booth after an excellent meal. Mellow after wine and food, Jane asked, "We going to talk or have dessert?"
"Both."
"What changed your mind about the FBI?"
"You." He frowned. "Whatever we do has to work for both of us."
He shrugged. "We could have waited out my contract."
Decisively. "No. We couldn't. In three months you were almost killed three times."
Jane shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty. "About that. I, ah, know I promised to tell you before taking risks. But you went to the dentist and Tork, well, Tork made a good argument. About the radio show."
She glowered at him. "Tork made you feel guilty then put a target on your back. And that proves my point."
"Which is?"
She leaned forward and put her hand on his. "You're not a cop, will never think like a cop. Tork and Pike don't understand that and, frankly, don't give a damn about you. They'd get you killed. I was so caught up in what I'm comfortable with I didn't think. I let you down."
He shook his head. "Never. What about you, your career? You need to be a cop."
"I am a cop, whether I work for the FBI, CIB, or someplace else."
Quietly, "Career?"
Thoughtfully, "I could work for another organization. ... But I'd like to step outside the bureaucracy, try something different. I'm tired of the politics, of working for hacks." Her laugh was bitter. "Hell, I spent years working for a criminal without even knowing. Career ladders are great if that's where you want to go. My career is whatever I decide is worth my time, screw the bureaucracy."
"S-o-o, a detective agency? Ours, someone else's?"
"This is what I've been thinking. It felt like free fall because there's no plan." She glared at him. "Unlike some people, I'm not good with hippy-dippy 'go with the flow.' But a plan doesn't have to mean a job. I want our own agency. In California. I have contacts from SFPD, SacPD, and the CBI. We have a good reputation among cops so we'd get referrals. It doesn't have to be homicides. We could take on other types of cases – missing persons for instance." He nodded without interrupting. She was on a roll. "And I'm sick of living in a glorified motel. I want something permanent, a home." She swallowed, suddenly aware Jane wasn't saying anything. She looked at him uncertainly, "Jane?"
His smile broke over his face and widened to full radiant beauty. "This is the Lisbon I know. And love."
Lisbon ducked her head. "This okay? What are you thinking?"
"We already agreed on California. I'd like Sacramento or environs," a shadow passed over his face, a cloud over the sun, "I prefer not to be in LA." He cleared his throat. "Grace and Rigs show it can be done. I daresay they had less to work with than you, reputation-wise. I do want time for vacations, a personal life." He looked a little unsure about that.
Lisbon said carefully, "I don't mind hard work. But, yeah, I would like to take a vacation occasionally, see the world. It won't happen unless we make time."
Relieved, he continued. "You know money will never be a problem, right?"
She frowned. "That's your money, Jane."
He said delicately, "It will be our money soon as I convince you to take the next logical step. –Or not! I'll put whatever amount you want into your account if that's what it takes."
She pushed her plate aside. "I don't want your money, Jane." She looked resolute, confident. "I do have savings, probably less than you but I'm not destitute. If need be I could get a job more than sufficient to support myself. And, and a baby if that happens." She stopped abruptly, having lurched into a huge unknown.
Jane reached across the table and took both her hands. Quietly, "I'd like a family again. Kids. We'll keep trying. I'm sure there are also children who need a home that we could provide."
She slid a hand free to take a sip of water. It was that or become embarrassingly emotional. Jane's smile shone brighter if possible as he moved to her side of the booth and hugged her tightly. "Finally, Teresa. Finally."
FBI, Austin, Following Week
Lisbon and Jane finished packing over the weekend. It went astonishingly quickly, underscoring just how little personal life they'd had in Austin. The FBI's legal department had Jane's new contract ready by Wednesday. Lisbon was surprised that she would continue as an FBI agent, 'active status on hiatus.' Abbott explained that it would dramatically simplify the administrivia of working cases for the next five years. He casually mentioned that she could rejoin the FBI as an agent at any time.
During the week, Lisbon and Jane – Lisbon mainly – finished reports on recent cases and filled out paperwork for HR. There was a going away party for Abbott on Thursday, for which they were grateful. They thought their imminent departure would be camouflaged by the hoopla for Abbott.
FBI, Austin, Friday
Their last day, Friday, finally arrived. Lisbon came in early to empty out her desk before the other agents were in. She decided she owed Tork the courtesy of stopping by in person.
The small man was in his office. The white adhesive on his nose was fraying around the edges. The purple and blue bruises had faded to a sickening greenish yellow that, nonetheless, meant they were healing.
"Tork?"
"Lisbon." He waved her in. "What do you need?"
"I wanted to say good-bye. I would have given you my resignation last week but you were out after Keller's take-down. That's why I gave it to Pike."
"I, uh, am really sorry I screwed up that operation. I lucked out it wasn't worse."
She stood silent a moment, then said dispassionately, "You did. Tork, I headed a team for 12 years. No matter how eager you are to get the perp, team safety has to come first. People aren't stupid. You won't get their loyalty or even their best effort unless they know you have their backs."
He swallowed. "I know that."
She frowned, considering his reply. "Are you sure? Think things through, think several steps ahead. It wasn't just the op. What if Keller had gotten away? What then?"
He said hesitantly, "Well, um, I was gonna assign a protective detail till he was caught."
Her eyebrow twitched. "For how long? You pushed Jane's buttons – congratulations," she said with an edge. "And you put him in the cross-hairs of another serial killer. If Jane couldn't leave Austin and you didn't catch Keller, he'd have that target on his back forever."
Tork was uncomfortable, but appeared to be listening. She bothered to offer two more pieces of advice. "Find the best people you can to work for and with. And remember you've gotta be able to look yourself in the mirror." She bit her lip. "I couldn't do that if someone on my team was killed when it could've been avoided. Good luck, Tork." She turned and left. Tork leaned his forehead onto his hand. He began to think losing the unit leader job under Pike ... might have a silver lining. There would be other opportunities in Phoenix, other people to work for.
Jane saw Lisbon exit Tork's office. He handed her the latte he'd picked up on the way in. They had driven separately because she had to relinquish the FBI SUV.
His eyebrows rose, curiosity eating him. She lightly whapped his chest. "You're nosier than my grandmother was."
"So tell me already."
"I just had some advice for Tork."
His eyes glinted with humor. "And you left him a quivering mess?"
She threw him a dirty look. "No. Now come on. I got an e-mail saying we need to clear up some details for Legal on the Keller case before we leave." He followed her to Legal's floor where they found Fischer, Wylie, Abbott and most of the Austin agents waiting with a cake and soda. She blushed furiously but was gratified when even Jane assumed a rosy hue. Despite the rocky start, they'd been accepted and even embraced in the hidebound, by-the-book organization. Abbott gave a mercifully short speech and Jane was amused to read his compliments were sincere. They escaped just before the end of the business day.
Lisbon and Jane exited the elevator in the lobby and waved to the security officer as they walked past. Jane stopped and backtracked to hand over their FBI Austin photo ID name tags.
They stepped out into an afternoon glowing brilliant gold as the day waned. Jane paused at the top of the stairs, spread his arms and faced the sun, eyes closed. His incandescent smile rivaled the sun. "Free at last!"
"Now what?" Lisbon asked, ever practical.
"Oh, I was thinking dinner ... and maybe a road trip to California. Then we can buy a house, travel to Europe, launch a business, conceive a child or two."
She nudged him but couldn't squelch a grin. "Talked me into it!"
FINI
A/N: There may well be a multi-chapter epilogue to this story as there are several loose ends. Thank you everyone for sticking with this l-o-n-g AU story.